Shadow of the Harvest
by Raging Archon
Summary: Malic Felshroud, High Inquisitor of the Forsaken, has a price on his head. He knows not why these Assassin's are after him, nor their connection to the Black Harvest, but what he does know is that he cannot dwell on such trivial matters. He's learned the hard way, it's either kill or be killed! Rated M for language and violence. (On temp hiatus)
1. A Minor Setback

**Hey there guys, this is my first WoW based Fan Fic. Been a fan of the game a long time and this little fic just sprung to mind whilst doing the 'Green Fire' questline. So without further ado, let us begin.**

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 **Chapter One- A Minor Setback**

For most passers by, it was just another day at the Goblin Port Town of Booty Bay. Reconstruction of the famous Steamwheedle stronghold was still under-way after Deathwing the Destroyer 'unintentionally' caused a tidal wave to hit the coast of southern Stranglethorn in his rather destructive return. Even now, members of all races were going out of their way to help rebuild the city. Not out of the goodness of their own heart of course, mainly just to get a little coin. But for the Goblin Kazzim Nogglefinch, today was not like any other day. Today was the start of his new job.

Unknown to many who lived in Booty Bay, the Port Town housed within it a 'Black Market' of sorts. The owner of the market, a rather greedy Goblin by the name of Howitz Flashbang, would procure exotic items that were considered too dangerous for their own good and sell them to the highest bidder, usually some high standing adventurer. The items were so rare, one couldn't even find them on the Auction House! And the secret market was so large, it was staffed by over a hundred personnel...and that's where Kazzim came in.

Kazzim's uncle worked as a foreman at the market, and after a few favours and back door deals, Kazzim had been offered a job as one of the many personnel who staffed the warehouse the merchandise was kept. Sure, the hours were long and the head foreman had a bite harder then a Devilsaur, but the pay was good...allegedly.

By the time Kazzim had arrived, many other labourers were already lounging around in the welfare, waiting for the shift to begin. Some were reading 'adult' magazines, others drinking whilst a few were even playing a few games of Hearthstone. As soon as Kazzim took one of the many seats in the welfare, a siren sounded, signalling the start of the shift.

" _All right ladies, break's over! Get back to work!"_ a gruff and grainy voice announced, earning a large amount of groaning and complaining to emanate from the workforce.

Kazzim hurriedly jumped from his chair, filing out with the other workers whilst also ensuring he was not barging into anyone. As soon as he passed the doors that separated the welfare from the warehouse, he gasped. The place was huge, gigantic even! Multiple artefacts or magical appliances were stacked alongside multiple other goods. Many other Goblins who were finishing their shift passed by, laughing greedily as many of them gave the current workforce the one or two fingered salute. Soon, the entirety of the workforce had entered the warehouse and were now splitting off to perform their many assigned tasks.

Now, if only Kazzim actually knew where to go.

Looking around sheepishly, Kazzim eventually found the courage to approach a rather tall Goblin with brown hair tied in a ponytail, who was currently reading through a clipboard in his hands.

"Errr...excuse me sir?" Kazzim gingerly asked, dipping low as he approached the other Goblin.

In response, the Goblin held out a finger instructing Kazzim to wait. After a good few minutes, the Goblin turned, raising an eyebrow as he stared at Kazzim with beady eyes. "Yeah? What is it kid?"

"Um...I was wondering what exactly I should be doing?" Kazzim asked, coughing nervously as the Goblin in front of him eyed him up and down.

"You're that new kid, right?" the Goblin asked after a short time had passed, earning a nod from Kazzim in response. "Name?"

"Oh! Kazzim Nogglefinch!" Kazzim answered, shaking his head happily. "My uncle works here and put a word in for me and-"

"Kid, I don't care if you're Illidan's love child!" the Goblin interrupted, causing Kazzim to jump back in shock. "And I certainly don't care about your life story! To me, you're nothin' but a service number on a sheet. Got it?"

"Errr...yes sir." Kazzim finally replied after a short silence, earning a nod from the Goblin.

"Right, so then let's see what you're working on today..." the Goblin muttered, running his finger down the clipboard before tapping the end of the sheet. "You're in dispatch kid, making sure the merchandise makes it to the wagons for transport!"

"Oh...where do I go?" Kazzim asked, rubbing the back of his head as he looked at the Goblin expectedly.

"Far end of the warehouse kid. Speak to Ace, he'll sort you out from there." the Goblin replied, not even looking up from his clipboard.

"Right. Thanks mister!" Kazzim replied, waving to the Goblin as he ran off to the other end of the warehouse.

"Other way kid..." the Goblin shouted as Kazzim quickly turned and proceeded to walk the correct way.

"I knew that! Just got...spun around that's all..."

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After multiple detours and wrong turns, Kazzim finally found himself at dispatch where multiple Goblins were already shuffling crates and barrels over to multiple other Goblins who would then carefully lift the containers onto wooden caravans. Kazzim then approached a muscular bald Goblin who was barking orders at those already present.

"Come on you slackers! This cargo has to leave in thirty minutes, I want it gone in fifteen!" the Goblin ordered, earning a few grunts of acknowledgement in response.

"Errr...are you Ace?" Kazzim asked, warily approaching the bald Goblin who quickly turned to face him, causing Kazzim to cower away slightly.

"Yeah, and you're late!" the Goblin, now known as Ace, replied, cracking his knuckles as he looked Kazzim up and down. "You're the new kid, right?"

"Y-yes sir..." Kazzim whimpered, shuffling away slightly as Ace made an unintelligible grunting noise before puffing in what appeared to be disappointment.

"Well...suppose I'll have to let you off this time..." Ace finally muttered, causing Kazzim to sigh in relief. "Your Foreman Nogglefinch's nephew, ain't you?"

"Uh...yes sir, do you know him?" Kazzim asked, gaining a slight glint of courage as he mentioned his uncle again.

"Yeah...kind of an asshole." Ace replied, causing Kazzim to slump in response. "Well, you're here now so let's see what we can get for you..."

Kazzim watched as Ace pulled out a clipboard, reading through it as he looked for an opening in the schedule. After a few minutes of searching, Ace simply chucked the clipboard away as he turned to face Kazzim again.

"Well kid, it's your lucky day! We got ourselves some specially refined 'Thunderbrew' all the way from Pandaria!" Ace stated, a greedy smile on his face as he looped his arm around Kazzim's shoulders. "We got ourselves a buyer, and we fought tooth and nail to get this stuff, so do us a favour and go get it will ya'?"

"Yes sir, right away!" Kazzim replied, giving a stiff salute as he quickly turned to join the many throngs of workers.

"And be careful with that stuff! You break it...you pay for it!" Ace shouted, cracking his knuckles to show just what he meant by 'pay', earning a loud gulp from Kazzim in response. "And that goes for all you ladies!"

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"Okay then...Thunderbrew...Thunderbrew..." Kazzim whispered as he searched through the 'Alcohol' section of the warehouse. Eventually, Kazzim approached a large barrel that was considerably bigger than him, a large red lightning bolt painted on it's surface with a set of Pandaren characters that marked the barrel as an alcoholic beverage.

Silently cheering, Kazzim quickly grasped hold of the barrel and gently laid it on its side as he had seen the other Goblins do and began wheeling it through the many corridors of the warehouse. Eventually, he found himself back at the main dispatch area, Ace watching with almost eagle eyes.

"I got the barrel Ace!" Kazzim announced, patting the barrel with a victorious grin on his face.

"I can see that kid, why ya' telling me?" Ace asked, pointing to one of the caravans. "Take it over there ya' dumbass!"

Kazzim nodded quickly as he shuffled the barrel over to the nearest caravan where he handed it over to a nearby Goblin who then proceeded to wheel the barrel to one of the caravans. Kazzim then sprinted back to Ace as he awaited further orders.

"Well what are ya' waiting for? Go get the others!" Ace shouted, picking some dirt from out of his nails.

Kazzim sighed loudly as he nodded, sprinting off to the 'alcohol' section again.

" _...Kazzim..."_

Kazzim stopped at the sound of his name, looking around in slight confusion when he saw no one was there. Putting it down to shear nerves, Kazzim turned around to continue with his job.

" _...Kazzim..."_

Kazzim turned around yet again, growing increasingly nervous at the sound of his name again. It didn't sound Goblin, so what was it?

" _...Come closer Kazzim..."_ the voice beckoned, causing Kazzim to freeze as he realised it was only getting louder.

As Kazzim looked around in slight panic, his eyes glanced on a simple crate, a green glow emanating through the gaps of the container. Kazzim warily approached the crate, looking up as he got closer.

" _...Yes Kazzim...Take me as your own..."_ the voice whispered, sending a shiver down his spine. What was inside that thing?

Looking around, Kazzim spotted a step-ladder resting nearby and grasped it with both hands, moving it so it was just next to the glowing crate. Somewhat in a trance, Kazzim slowly climbed the step-ladder, stopping as he was next to the crate.

" _...Open it...See what power can be yours..."_ the voice ordered, and Kazzim obeyed. Gently lifting the lid, he gazed down to see what was in the crate. Within the crate, a large tome rested, a demonic face with fangs surrounding the book like a second skin of sorts. A green glow emanated from the pages of the book, whilst a large chain wrapped around the book tighter than a hangman's noose.

" _Open me...Open me..."_ the voice ordered, this time more frantically.

Everything in Kazzim's head told him this was a bad idea. Everything told him to just put the lid back on the crate, find Ace and tell him what had happened. Yet for some reason he couldn't explain, he found himself reaching for the tome. As his hands got closer, he could actually feel the raw power coming off the book, his mind not even comprehending what might be inside. He could see himself now, unlimited power at his grasp as he stood atop a pile of his enemies, fancy women of all walks of life surrounding him as he-

"Hey Kid! What the hell is takin' ya' so long!"

Kazzim gasped as he turned at the sound of Ace's voice, quickly fumbling around as he went to withdraw his hand and get back to work. Yet as he raised his arm, the cuff of his sleeve caught the corner of the crate, shifting the weight of the cargo too much over the edge. Kazzim could only watch as the crate toppled over the edge, landing with a loud thud that echoed across the warehouse.

"That better not have been important!" Ace's voice shouted as Kazzim heard a loud crowd of workers quickly moving whilst cheering.

"Oh crap..." Kazzim whimpered as he clutched his head. "Oh crap oh crap oh crap!"

Quickly jumping down from the step-ladder, Kazzim lifted the crate and inspected the box, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw no immediate damage to the wooden container. Looking down, he saw that the tome was also undamaged. Come to think of it, the only thing that seemed damaged was the floor, which had web like cracks running along the stone surface under the tome. Just what the hell was this book made of?!

Realising the crowd was getting closer, Kazzim quickly knelt down to pick up the tome and place it back in the crate so he could put it back where it belonged. As he picked the book up however, he felt it. It was almost like a tingling feeling running through his fingers and up through the rest of his body. Then strange Fel green wisps began dancing around the book as Fel green smoke weaved around both him and the book. Then he heard what sounded like thousands of moans emanating from the book, as if crying out for release. Then the tingling turned to a pinching pain, then a stabbing one until finally it felt like his entire body was on fire both inside and out.

Kazzim dropped the book as he screamed in pain, clutching his face as green fire beamed out his open mouth and soon through his nose, eyes and ears. Then with a pathetic cry for relief, his body combusted with a small explosion, the Fel flames collapsing on themselves almost immediately.

Ace and the others had quickened their pace at the sounds of screaming and the fancy light show that had followed. All there was to see when Ace finally arrived was the tome resting peacefully on the floor, and the pile of ash that was formally known as the Goblin Kazzim Nogglefinch.

"Oh shit..." Ace murmured as he rubbed the back of his bald head, turning to one of the nearby Goblins. "Call the boss...tell him we got ourselves a situation..."

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 **Hope you liked the first chapter, next chapter should be out next week. Liked it? Feel free to leave a review and remember, constructive criticism is welcomed. Any questions? Either leave in your review or PM me and I'll answer next chapter for reviews and in the case of PM's as soon as possible.**

 **Raging Archon out.**


	2. Enter the Duke

**Another day, another chapter. Thought I might not be able to get this chapter out but managed to find the time to write it up. First review response, OutlastTheDark; glad you liked it and you'll find out more this chapter. Now, on with the show!**

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 **Chapter 2- Enter the Duke**

 **One week later…**

"What the hell is taking this guy so long?!" Howitz Flashbang seethed, pacing around madly at the docks of Booty Bay. "He was supposed to be here in three days! Three days!"

"Duhhh...actually boss, I think he said a week." the Hobgoblin Grimnose murmured, his voice perfectly matching the oblivious look on his face.

"Yeah? Well when someone says a week, I expect them to be here in three days!" Howitz growled, sending a glare at the mindless Hobgoblin who merely gawked in response. "Ace, this guy better be worth the trouble he's put me through..."

"Don't you worry boss, this guy is a professional!" Ace replied, grinning as he gave a thumbs up. "He works for the Banshee Queen herself!"

"So does every single rotting corpse that ain't Scourge!" Howitz shouted, throwing his hands into the air incredulously.

"True...but he knows his stuff!" Ace reassured, dipping low as if cautious of who might be listening. "He's like a...Inquisitor for her or something."

"Everything you said 'bout this guy better be true..." Howitz grumbled, crossing his arms as he glared at Ace. "Or else I'm docking yer' wages!"

"That won't be necessary..." a cold voice announced, sending shivers down the two Goblins spines.

Howitz slowly turned and stared at the new individual. Before him stood one of the Forsaken, clothed in a black and purple robe that wrapped tightly around his bony frame, with a ragged black cloak flowing behind him. A gloved skeletal hand grasped onto a simple looking scythe, the blade covered in a thin layer of dried blood and rust whilst the other arm hung loosely at his side. Black metal guards covered his shoulders whilst a black hood was pulled over his head, the skull of some unfortunate animal covering the front of his face. Behind him loomed a being of shadow with long clawed arms dangling from its side and large shoulder pads floating gently on its incorporeal form, a faceless head with two small orbs watching everything around it.

"Lord Felshroud...glad you made it!" Ace quickly stuttered, bowing lowly whilst the Forsaken before them watched uninterested. "I hope your journey wasn't unpleasant..."

"Frankly it was rather a bore..." the Forsaken, evidently Lord Felshroud, muttered as he looked around the Port Town clearly uninterested.

"Yeah yeah, whatever!" Howitz grumbled, quickly marching up to Lord Felshroud. "What the hell took you so long?!"

"I'm _sorry_ I couldn't keep up with your time schedule Goblin, but I was rather preoccupied at the time." Lord Felshroud replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he watched the Goblin grow more and more impatient.

"Preoccupied with what?!" Howitz shouted, crossing his arms as he awaited the Forsaken Lord's response.

"Well if you must know, I was having a rather lovely conversation with a captured Scarlet Crusader..." Lord Felshroud explained, gently running his thin fingers along the edge of the scythe. "He was telling me about Crusader troop movements in Tirisfal after I'd just gouged out his eye with a hot iron rod, and was in the process of slowly pulling out his intestines with a carving knife...Would you like me to go into further detail?"

"I...I think I'll pass..." Howitz muttered as he pulled at the collar of his shirt, gulping loudly in the process before he quickly recomposed himself. "It doesn't matter, yer' here now!"

"Indeed..." Lord Felshroud murmured, quietly chuckling to himself at the Goblin's short fuse. Such simple creatures. "Well, why did you call for me? I was under the impression it was dire business."

"Walk with me, then we'll talk..." Howitz responded, earning a low growl from the Forsaken Lord.

Howitz and his escort led Lord Felshroud through the levels of Booty Bay, many moving out of the groups path upon seeing the Goblin Trade Baron, and moving even further upon seeing the Forsaken Lord. Lord Felshroud grunted in amusement as he gazed at the many bystanders who had been until recently going about their daily business. Amongst them were many low key adventurers, both Alliance and Horde, who gazed at him with both fear and curiosity. He had a reputation amongst both factions, specifically amongst the Alliance. Many referred to him as 'the Duke of Pain', which was rather absurd of course seeing as he was a Lord, not a Duke. Yet something just seemed to nag at him whenever he thought of 'the Lord of Pain' as a title. Still, having a reputation that proceeds you can be handy...as was the case now.

Finally, Howitz had finally reached his office, a small shack like building that very clearly shouted 'Goblin'. Howitz entered the building, turning around as he awaited Lord Felshroud. As the Forsaken walked forward, Howitz held up his finger, shaking his head as he denied him passage.

"Nuh uh, just me, you and my bodyguard! You can tell that...thing to stay outside!" Howitz stated, pointing a finger at the walking mass of shadow behind Lord Felshroud. The entity clearly took offence at the word used to describe it, as it seemingly growled loudly as it loomed over the Goblin, stopping only when the Forsaken placed his scythe between the two.

"That 'thing' as you so delicately put it, is a Void Lord! But I will comply nonetheless." Lord Felshroud seethed, lifting his scythe as he turned to face the Void Lord. "Khamû, wait outside for my return."

" _As you command, Master."_ the Void Lord, evidently called Khamû, replied, bowing as it slowly backed away.

"Ace, keep an eye on that thing." Howitz ordered, pointing at first to Ace and then Khamû. "If it so much as touches anything, break its bones!"

"I...I don't think it has any bones..." Ace murmured as he looked at the Void Lord, who seemed unimpressed with the muscular Goblin in front of him.

"Well use yer' imagination!" Howitz barked, quickly shutting the door as soon as the Forsaken entered the office, leaving the Goblin and Void Lord alone.

"So...err...havin' a Boss can be a REAL pain in the ass...am I right?" Ace nervously laughed as he rubbed the back of his head. Khamû simply glared in response, causing the Goblin to gulp loudly as he shuffled away slowly.

 **00000000**

The Goblin's office was as filthy as he had expected. Only a few candles lit the room, causing the room to light up with an almost eerie glow. Stacks of paper were piled onto a desk, with many more scattered across the room. Small piles of mouldy food were also scattered around, attracting a large number of flies and maggots. Were it not to his sense of smell both having become accustomed to the Undercity whilst also deteriorating over the years, he would've gagged at the stench. The Goblin simply strode across the room, jumping into the chair before shuffling it forward.

Lord Felshroud simply leaned his scythe against the wall before taking a seat adjacent to the Goblin, who simply crossed his arms behind his head as the Forsaken shuffled forward.

"So...Lord Felshroud...Do you have maybe another name I can use?" Howitz asked, raising an eyebrow as he crossed his legs and laid them against the table.

"If you must know, my friends call me Malic...and we are most certainly not friends..." Lord Felshroud muttered, knowing he would almost instantly regret that decision.

"Malic 'ey?" Howitz grinned, earning a growl from the Forsaken Lord. "Mind if I call you Mal?"

"Yes!" Malic seethed, his clawed gauntlets digging into his robes.

"Mal it is then!" Howitz grinned, clearly enjoying the torment he was inflicting onto the Forsaken, who only growled again. "So Mal, you're probably wondering why I asked you to come down to Booty Bay, no?"

"Of course I am." Malic replied, the anger clear in his voice. "I was in the middle of important business!"

"Yeah yeah, the Crusader thing. I heard you the first time round." Howitz interrupted, waving his hand dismissively in front of him.

Malic could only growl in response as he sent a glare at the Goblin, hidden by his mask. Oh how he wanted to just slit his throat and be done with it. "Well? Spit it out then!"

"You see, 'bout a week ago we had a...situation involving one of our new boys." Howitz explained, leaning forward as he interlocked his gnarled fingers together. "One minute he was there, the next just a pile of dust..." Howitz continued, shaking his head solemnly. "Sad really...had to close down my store until I get this crap sorted..."

"And this concerns me how?" Malic asked as he gazed at the tips of his gloves, clattering the metal guards together, clearly disinterested with the whole business.

"Cause the thing that turned him into dust was a god damn Warlock book!" Howitz replied, leaning backwards onto his chair as he awaited Malic's response.

Malic froze immediately, turning his gaze towards the Goblin. 'This just got interesting…' Malic thought, leaning forward slightly as he looked the Goblin up and down. "A book you say? Where is it?"

"Still in the warehouse, I ain't touching that thing after what happened to..." Howitz paused as he tried to remember the kids name, scratching his head lightly before giving another dismissive wave. "...whatever that guy was called."

"I see..." Malic replied, resting his hand where his chin used to be. "Anything else of importance I should be aware of?" The last thing he wanted to do was to enter a situation unprepared. Especially after what happened the last time such a situation occurred...he liked that jaw a lot…

"Not that I can think of..." Howitz replied after a short silence, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. 'Maybe I should warn him about the book beckoning people to open it…' Howitz thought, watching as Malic seemingly weighed his options before thinking otherwise.

"Very well Goblin, we have a deal." Malic finally stated, placing both hands on the desk in front of him. "I'll investigate your little 'problem', for a fee of course."

"Absolutely!" Howitz shouted, eagerly clapping his hands together as he rubbed them greedily together. "How's 200 gold sound?"

"I've earned less for bigger jobs..." Malic mumbled, holding out his hand to confirm the deal. "Shall we shake?"

"Why of course!" Howitz beamed, quickly clasping Malic's hand, squeezing the appendage tightly as he pulled the Warlock closer. "Oh and if you break anything while yer' in there, Grimnose here will break you!"

Malic turned to face the Hobgoblin who smiled menacingly as he pounded his fists together. Malic merely chuckled as he squeezed Howitz hand even tighter, causing the Goblin to wince slightly. "I understand...and if you threaten me again, broken merchandise will be the least of your worries..."

Howitz narrowed his eyes as he glared at the Forsaken, who could only assume glared back at him. The two then firmly shook hands before relinquishing their grip, Howitz hopping off the chair as Malic calmly strolled over to his scythe, scooping it up quickly.

"Now then, where is this warehouse?"

 **00000000**

"So...there any lady Demon's yer' Master got?" Ace asked, laughing nervously as Khamû quickly turned and sent yet another glare at the Goblin. He'd always seen some Warlock's with Succubus' or Shivarra in their employ. It was an honest and innocent question!

" _What Demon's my Master employs is none of your concern, Goblin!"_ Khamû swiftly replied, the venom in his voice loud and clear.

"Okay then..." Ace replied, a nervous grin appearing on his face. "So what exactly do you do for him? Do you like...soak the damage for him or something?"

" _Do I look like some common Voidwalker to you?!"_ Khamû seethed, leaning closer to the Goblin who had now backed up against the wall. _"I serve the Master in more then just 'soaking the damage'...I have inflicted pain and torment on countless beings who are far greater than you!"_

As the Demon spoke in its empty voice, a small orb of shadow had formed on the tip of its claw, moving closer to the Goblin's nose. _"Would you like a demonstration of just what I can do?"_

Before Ace could even respond, the door suddenly flung open, causing Khamû to immediately back away in less then a second, acting as if the conversation between them had never happened. Howitz exited the building seconds later, a greedy look on his face, followed closely by Grimnose and Malic Felshroud.

"So, you and yer'...void whatever can go and find out what happened in there!" Howitz replied, gesturing to Khamû who only growled in response to the words used to describe him. "Ace, show them the way will ya'?"

"Yo-you sure ya' don't need me boss?" Ace asked, gulping loudly as he turned to face Khamû, who's glare intensified upon locking eyes with the Goblin.

"I won't need a guide Howitz..." Malic interrupted, causing Ace to sigh in relief. "I can find my way easily enough."

"Okay I guess...just remember what I told ya' whilst yer' in there!" Howitz replied, cocking his head towards Grimnose as he spoke.

"And remember what I told you..." Malic responded, swiftly turning as he walked down to the warehouse as instructed, followed closely by Khamû.

" _I trust you met a...reasonable deal Master?"_ Khamû asked, safely out of earshot of all around them.

"It's as good as it'll get, never liked Goblin's..." Malic replied, shifting a stray strand of seaweed aside as he continued to walk. "I trust you weren't too bored?"

" _Goblin's are distasteful creatures..."_ Khamû murmured, growling softly. _"The sooner this is done with the better!"_

"On that we are agreed old friend..." Malic whispered, slipping into the throng of people that made up the Pirate Cove of Booty Bay…

 **00000000**

 **Duskwood…**

The three black hooded figures rode through the thick forest of Duskwood with little effort. Their black armoured steeds panted loudly as their riders pushed them to the brink of their limits, galloping faster than they had done in years. The lead rider suddenly pulled sharply on his reins, causing the horse to skid to a stop and neigh in annoyance. He quickly held up his hand, signalling the other two riders to stop alongside him.

"What is it?" one of the riders asked, a female Forsaken, her face clearly in the late stages of rot, her skull nearly visible.

Without a word the lead rider dismounted, strolling forward before stopping in the middle of the road, kneeling down as he examined the ground before him.

"We are wasting time!" the third rider exclaimed, a male Orc, his voice rough and croaky. "We need to get moving or we'll lose him!"

"We don't even know where he is headed!" the Forsaken shouted, turning to face the Orc with narrow eyes. "For all we know he could be back in Tirisfal by now!"

"Actually, we do know where he is headed..." the lead rider finally muttered, a Human with almost wolfish features, yet he did not carry the Worgen curse as expected.

"What are you talking about?" the Orc asked, raising his eyebrows warily. When he received no response, the Orc growled softly, dismounting his steed as he strode forward. "Answer me!"

In response, the Human pointed at the ground, a set of fresh hoof prints clearly visible.

"They could belong to anyone..." the Forsaken muttered, having dismounted her steed as well.

"They are his...I can tell..." the Human finally said, turning to meet the Forsaken's gaze.

"How?" the Orc asked, genuinely curious. To him and their partner they looked like normal hoof prints.

"Let's just call it a hunch..." the Human chuckled, though it was clearly a laugh of depravity rather then humour.

"Can you tell where he's headed?" the Forsaken asked, deciding it was best not to question their leader's hunch.

"If I am correct..." the Human started, pausing as he leaned closer, examining the hoof prints more carefully. "He's headed for Stranglethorn!"

"Stranglethorn? That's less then a mile away from us." the Orc murmured, rubbing the back of his hooded head.

"Then let us make haste!" the Human stated, quickly leaping onto his steed. "The sooner we find him the better..."

The other two riders nodded in response, quickly jumping on their steeds as they followed their leader, their destination clear…

 **00000000**

 **Hope you liked this chapter, but who are these mysterious figures? If you read the description, you probably know the answer. Tune in next week for more action! Liked it? Leave a review and constructive criticism is always welcome. Any questions? Either PM me or leave in the review and I'll answer if I can whenever I can for the PM's and next chapter for the reviews.**

 **Raging Archon out.**


	3. Another One?

**Another day, another chapter. Review response time first, OutlastTheDark; yeah, Scarlet Crusaders ARE fun to kill...and yeah, those are the summary Assassins, which you'll find a bit more about this chapter. Now, on with the show!**

 **00000000**

 **Chapter 3- Another One?**

Malic strode quickly through the warehouse, not even caring to glance up at the many magical trinkets that rested on display. Most were useless, many were cursed and almost half the products were in actuality fake. The only real magic coming off of them were the illusion spells that made them seem genuine to the untrained eye. And judging from how much profit the Goblin was making, that was a good deal of people.

" _How has this Beast managed to make such money from clearly fake artefacts?!"_ Khamû asked in exasperation, his glowing eyes narrowed in confusion as he gazed at the shelves of the warehouse.

"People will believe anything you tell them," Malic replied, turning to face the Void Lord. "say a useless piece of jewellery will increase your strength by tenfold and you'll have a dozen men and women basically throwing money at you..."

" _Mortals are that desperate for power?"_ Khamû enquired, Malic silently nodding his head in response. _"That is...most disturbing..."_

"Indeed..." Malic stated, looking at a stone tablet that according to the plaque beneath it told one how to become a Loa that had the power to rival even the great Hakkar the Soulflayer. In actuality, it was an ancient Troll recipe for Grilled Scorpid Legs.

The two continued in silence as they passed the many goods in the warehouse, occasionally stopping to examine some of the genuinely magical trinkets. Eventually they arrived at an area that had been cordoned off by a pair of Bruisers who stood either side of a hastily made barricade, black bandanna's hiding their faces.

"You Malic?" one of the Bruisers asked, turning to face Malic with a raised eyebrow. Malic simply nodded, causing the Bruiser to face his partner and nod towards him. "Boss said you'd be down here, he's expecting you."

"Marvellous..." Malic glumly replied, his eyes rolling when he heard the mention of the Goblin.

The two Bruisers turned to face the barricade, pushing it aside before gesturing for the Warlock to move forward. Malic was quick to move, followed by Khamû, as the Bruisers pushed the barricade back in its place. It didn't take long for Malic to come face to face with Howitz once again, who was lazily reading a 'Steamy Romance Novel' whilst the Hobgoblin Grimnose stood nearby, longing for combat.

"Took you long enough..." Howitz mumbled, closing the book with a loud clap before carelessly throwing it behind him. Malic was relatively sure he heard the sound of pottery shattering seconds later.

"Howitz...I wasn't under the impression you would be here." Malic stated, his calm stature foreign to the disgusted tone of his voice.

"Just wanted to make sure you got here, that's all." Howitz replied, his hands clasped behind his back as he slowly walked forward, Grimnose stumbling forward in unison. "So, I trust you'll have everything you need?"

"That depends on what I'm dealing with," Malic stated, before patting a small satchel strapped to his belt. "but I have the basics covered..."

"Good to hear," Howitz replied, moving forward as Grimnose continued to amble forward behind him. "If you need anything else, just give my boys a yell and they'll get what you need. I'll be awaiting your success!"

" _He has no idea what we could potentially be dealing with, does he?"_ Khamû whispered, turning to face Malic as the Goblin sauntered towards the barricade.

"No, no doubt he sees only a potential profit from whatever he's been toying with." Malic replied, turning on his heels as he slowly made his way over to where he assumed the strange artefact was. "Come now, let's get going."

Khamû nodded in response as the Void Lord turned to follow Malic, who was now increasing his speed. Malic could feel it, and he was relatively sure Khamû could too. There was a large amount of Fel energy ahead of him. Usually he only felt this much energy coming from a large number of Fel infused trinkets in a small area, this much coming allegedly from one artefact was as intriguing as it was dire.

He turned the corner, and was met by the site of a number of ash piles surrounding a large tome. The tome itself was literally seeping with Fel Energy, the ground around it no doubt permanently coloured a sickly green. The Tome itself appeared to have the appearance of a demonic face with crooked fangs, a large chain wrapped tightly around the book.

" _...Malic..."_ a voice whispered, cooing the Warlock to touch the book and meet the same grizzly fate as all others. However, the response Malic gave was not one of longing, but one of exasperation.

"Please tell me that's not what I think it is..." Malic grumbled, his shoulders dropping slightly as soon as he heard the demonic voice in his head.

" _I'm afraid so Master."_ Khamû replied, his own voice matching that of his Masters. Both annoyed and disappointed. _"It seems that the Goblin has procured a Tome of the Lost Legion..."_

"How many of these damned things did those bat winged bastards write?!" Malic asked, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

" _The Nathrezim were always the ones to record their dark findings...no doubt there are millions of Tomes out there, each one brimming with the power of the Legion."_ Khamû answered, leaning forward as he stared inquisitively at the book, making sure not to touch it.

"Damn it!" Malic hissed, clenching his fists tightly. "Any idea why it turned these poor fellows into ash?" Malic sighed, prodding one of the ash piles with the butt of his scythe. No doubt one was the recruit Howitz had mentioned whilst the others were most likely ones who attempted to move the artefact to a safer holder.

" _No doubt the raw energy from the book was too much for them to handle."_ Khamû theorized, sending a small strand of shadow energy at the book which seemingly absorbed the power. _"How should we proceed, Master?"_

"I've dealt with enough shit because of one of these damned books..." Malic grumbled, recalling how he had helped another Warlock who had come across one of these Tomes. That was an encounter he wouldn't soon forget, and one that he dearly tried to. "Is there any way to deal with it?"

" _There are some containment spells you could try, but they would eventually fail in time."_ Khamû replied, rising up to full height as he turned to face Malic. _"The safest course of action would be to destroy it."_

"I was hoping that would be an option..." Malic chuckled, strolling over to the Tome as he knelt down in front of it. "How do we do that?"

" _The Nathrezim were always one to keep their secrets safe."_ Khamû muttered, looking down at the Tome again. _"Dark magic's bind the book to keep it safe from those unworthy of its power...but every lock has a key."_

"A Healthstone...correct?" Malic asked, recalling the last time he encountered one of these Tome's, causing him to shudder slightly.

" _For that one, yes. This Tome could have an entirely different lock."_ Khamû stated, tilting his head slightly in his Masters direction. _"That particular Tome was written by the Dreadlord you Mortals refer to as 'Mephistroth'. This Tome..."_ Khamû paused as he held his clawed hand over the Tome, before lowering the hand seconds later. _"...was written by the one known to you as 'Detheroc'._ "

"Detheroc..." Malic murmured, nodding his head in recognition of the name. "Yes I recall...ruled Lordaeron for a time alongside Balnazzar and Varimathras after the Legion's defeat at Hyjal?"

" _Correct."_ Khamû confirmed, turning to face his Master yet again. _"Detheroc toyed with his enemies, enslaving them with Dark Powers that dominated the mind, turning them into puppets and forcing them to commit heinous acts in his name, in a body they no longer controlled."_

"Sounds like a charming fellow..." Malic murmured, standing up again to face Khamû. "How do we open it?"

" _As previously mentioned, Detheroc toyed with his foes. No doubt something of a similar nature would work just as well..."_

"Unfortunately for us both I'm no Shadow Priest..." Malic muttered, rubbing the back of his head as he raked his mind for an idea. Then a thought popped into his head, it was a long shot but it just might work. "Khamû, do you think a Soulstone might work?"

" _Possibly...the idea of toying with ones Soul would certainly be in his nature."_ Khamû replied, before turning to face Malic with an inquisitive look. _"You have an idea I assume?"_

"Yes...I believe I do." Malic replied, balling his fist up tightly as shadowy energy surrounded it. He opened it seconds later, a small purple orb resting in his open palm. "If this works and the Tome opens, then what?"

" _When the Tome unlocks, it will release a surge of power."_ Khamû responded, pacing around the Tome at a steady speed. " _When it does, all you must simply do is strike the book until the power has all but faded...provided you can open it that is."_

"Let's pray this works..." Malic murmured, whispering a silent prayer as he slowly placed the Soulstone in the centre of the Tome, ignoring the pleas the Tome murmured.

As the Soulstone came into contact with the chains binding the book, the stone dispersed into a thick layer of shadow that the book quickly consumed, shaking violently on the spot. The chains then disintegrated into Fel ashes, no longer restraining the violent energies of the Tome. Seconds later, the Tome opened, a pillar of Fel energy shooting out, momentarily blinding Malic and Khamû. Demonic moans echoed all around as the energy crackled all around them, causing the many trinkets to slowly turn to ash as the energy washed over them.

" _Quickly Master! Destroy it before it destroys us!"_ Khamû shouted, backing away slightly as he spoke.

Malic was quick to act, bringing his scythe high over his head and swinging down. When the blade made contact with the page, a shrill shriek echoed throughout the warehouse. Malic swung down again, elighting another shriek from the book. Malic continued to swing the scythe down on the book, each hit causing it to scream in pain. After multiple swings, the Tome let out a final pained moan as Fel energy began to build up around it, forming a small orb above the book. Then, the orb imploded with a large amount of kinetic energy, causing Malic and Khamû to stagger back. When Malic gazed at the book, it no longer crackled with energy, the pages torn and tattered.

"Well, I'm glad that's over..." Malic muttered, leaning on his scythe slightly as he looked up at Khamû, who nodded in response.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON OVER THERE?!"

"Perhaps I spoke too soon..." Malic grumbled as he turned to the sight of Howitz rushing forward, an angry look on his face, followed swiftly by Grimnose.

"What the hell was with the-" Howitz paused as he noticed the now useless Tome behind Malic, his jaw nearly hitting the ground in shock. "What the hell! What happened to my book?!"

"The Tome was a threat to all...the safest course of action was to destroy it." Malic stated, though his explanation did little to quell the Goblins rage. "I did my part, so if you don't mind I would appreciate it if you-"

"I told you not to break ANY of my merchandise! And the first thing you do is break it!" Howitz seethed, turning to face Grimnose. "Grimnose, show him what happens to people who get on my bad side!"

The Hobgoblin giggled in glee as it quickly unsheathed the large hammer strapped to its back, the rusty weapon covered in dried blood. The Hobgoblin raised the hammer over its head, ready to swing down on Malic who stood unmoving. As the hammer was mere inches away, Khamû quickly caught the Hobgoblin's wrist in his clawed hand, shocking the brute. Khamû then proceeded to tighten his grip, causing the Hobgoblin to scream in pain as it dropped the hammer, attempting to pull away from the Demon.

"Hey! Tell your crazy ass shadow thing to let my bodyguard go!" Howitz demanded, a slight trace of fear in his voice.

"That 'crazy ass shadow thing' is called a Void Lord..." Malic seethed, followed quickly by a sickening crunch as Khamû shattered the Hobgoblin's wrist, who backed away rapidly as it cradled its bloodied wrist, whimpering in pain. "Now, as I have already politely asked, I would appreciate it if you gave me my money or I'll be forced to pluck it from what's left of your corpse!"

Howitz backed away slowly, switching his gaze to his now injured bodyguard and the Warlock before him, gulping loudly as he plucked a small coin pouch attached to his belt. "It's all here! Just take it and get out of my sight!"

Malic quickly caught the pouch and opened it, counting the coins inside before chuckling, attaching the pouch to his belt next to the satchel. "Thank you for your cooperation..."

Malic quickly strolled out of sight, followed by Khamû, as both made their way out of the warehouse and into the bustling streets of the port town.

 **00000000**

" _That was far more entertaining then I thought it would be!"_ Khamû exclaimed, his head swivelling towards Malic.

"Indeed," Malic replied, making his way through the large crowd he currently found himself in. "I didn't think the day could get any better, clearly I was wrong."

" _We will return to the Undercity soon then?"_ Khamû asked, nearing the Inn that Malic had rented for the night.

"Yes, we'll probably stay the night and then set off in the-" Malic froze outside the Inn's entrance, becoming as still as a statue.

" _Master?"_ Khamû asked, turning to follow his Master's gaze.

There in the make shift stable were many mounts belonging to various adventurers and traders with Malic's Forsaken Warhorse, Boneshadow, amongst them. However, nearby were three new horses, all of them stabled next to Boneshadow. This would have been no cause for concern, but the armour they wore was almost uniformed. Not to mention something seemed awfully familiar about them, but he couldn't quite place it. Then he recalled it. On his way to Booty Bay he was being followed by three riders mounted on very similar horses. He'd thought he'd lost them, clearly he was wrong.

"I think we're being followed..."

 **00000000**

"Damn that bag of bones!" Howitz seethed, pacing in office as Grimnose whimpered in the corner, still nursing the shattered wrist. "He broke my merchandise! Then my bodyguard! Then he has the audacity to threaten me?! I want him dead! You hear me? Dead!"

"That can be arranged..." a smooth voice answered, catching Howitz by surprise.

Quickly turning, Howitz saw a Human leaning against the frame of the door. They wore a mixture of black plate and leather, a hood with a mask covering the lower half of his face, concealing his identity. Howitz also noted the long elven looking blade in his hand...a blade that was dripping blood.

"What the-how'd you get in here?!" Howitz stammered, backing away slowly as the Human leaned forward slightly.

"I let myself in." the Human replied, who Howitz now realised was holding something in his free hand. "Your guard outside wasn't too keen on that idea so I...relieved him of his post."

The Human then chucked the object forward, the object stopping mere inches from his feet. Now in the dim light, Howitz could clearly see that it was a Goblin head, the look of shock still written on his face. Howitz quickly back peddled as the Human slowly approached, cleaning the blade in his hand of blood.

"What are you waiting for?! Smash the prick!" Howitz shouted, turning to face Grimnose quickly.

With reluctance, Grimnose charged forward, swinging his good arm out in front of him. The Human ducked beneath the blow, quickly slashing at Grimnose's stomach as he passed under his arm. Grimnose quickly fell to the floor, clutching his stomach as the Human then thrust the blade into the Hobgoblin's back, killing him instantly.

"Listen pal...you let me live, I'll pay you big time!" Howitz begged, backing away quickly as the Human quickened his pace, nearly slipping on some stray paperwork.

"Calm yourself my friend, I'm not here for your blood. In fact, I'm here for information." the Human stated, signalling for the Goblin to calm down as he quickly sheathed the blade.

"Information?" Howitz asked, still backing away but now more slowly. Though the caution in his voice was still evident. "What kind of information?"

"The kind I'm willing to pay large amounts of Gold for..." the Human replied, snapping his fingers twice.

Immediately, two more figures dressed in the same attire walked in, carrying a large chest which they dropped on the floor with a loud thud. The Human took out a key which he inserted into the lock of the chest, turning it until he heard a loud click. The figures that had carried the chest in then opened it, revealing a large deposit of Gold laid out in front of him, quite literally glowing. Were it not for the situation, Howitz would have drooled right on the spot.

"Now I would say that a large amount of Gold was a worth while trade for some information, wouldn't you?" the Human murmured, tilting his head as he awaited Howitz's response.

"Well why didn't you say you were here on business?!" Howitz exclaimed, holding his arms out wide as a greedy grin spread across his face. "So, information huh? What d'ya wanna know?"

"You know where to find people, correct?" the Human asked, leaning back as he crossed his arms behind his back. When Howitz nodded in response, the Human leaned closer again, his face mere inches from Howitz's. "Then where can I find Malic Felshroud?"

 **00000000**

 **Well, things just got interesting! Stay tuned for more action next week. Liked it? Feel free to leave a review and constructive criticism is welcomed. Any questions? Either leave in your review or PM and I'll answer next chapter.**

 **Raging Archon out.**


	4. The Attempt

**Another day, another chapter. So review response time first! OutlastTheDark; you'll learn more about the assassin's soon my friend, don't you worry. And Goblin's are kinda vain if you think about it, so they think they can solve everything. Now, on with the show!**

 **00000000**

 **Chapter 4- The Attempt**

When the three riders had arrived at Booty Bay, the sun was only just beginning to set. Night soon covered the Port Town, though the late hours did little to quell the activity in Booty Bay. When they had arrived at the local Inn, they saw a Forsaken Warhorse stabled nearby, a good sign in their eyes. They had then met with one of their contacts at the harbour, who supplied the trio with a suitable leverage device for the Goblin known as Howitz Flashbang, the last known employer of Malic Felshroud.

He was more then willing to part with the information, even without the monetary compensation. According to the Goblin, Malic was staying at the 'Salty Sailor Tavern' for the night and would be leaving the following morning. More then enough time.

"Where the hell did he go?!" the Forsaken seethed, looking around sharply as she waited outside the Tavern entrance with her Orcish compatriot.

"How should I know?!" the Orc replied, growling loudly as he threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "He said he would be two minutes."

"That was an hour ago!" the Forsaken spat, spinning around and glaring at the Orc who only returned the stare.

"Bah who cares where he is?! Clearly the Pink-Skinned Human filth has turned into a Yellow Bellied Coward!" the Orc shouted, before lowering his mask slightly and spitting on the floor in disgust.

"Perhaps you're right..." the Forsaken murmured, stealing a glance to see if the Human was still anywhere to be seen. "The Master will be most displeased with this..."

"We can tell her once Malic is dead!" the Orc answered, before gesturing to the Tavern behind him. "Now let's hurry up and deal with this cur! I can't stand the stench of fish for much longer!"

The Forsaken nodded in agreement, quickly entering the tavern, followed by the Orc. The tavern was filled to the brim, mostly by low key Adventurers and Pirates all drinking and laughing, some in deep conversation. The stench of beer and other alcoholic beverages hung in the air as a small group of Goblins played cheery music, adding to the overall atmosphere of the establishment. The two then made their way to the bar, where a Goblin stood, serving drinks to a pair of Adventurers who looked like they'd seen more then enough blood-shed for one day. As soon as the two Adventurers left the bar the Forsaken was quick to march forward towards the Goblin, who turned and leaned on the counter as the two approached.

"Hey there friends! What can I get for ya'?" the Goblin asked in a cheerful tone, completely ignoring the stares he received from the two in question.

"We're looking for someone, can you tell us where to find them?" the Forsaken asked, cutting straight to the point rather then mince words with the Goblin.

"Oh?" the Goblin replied, his ears dropping low for a second before he resumed his cheery demeanour. "Well who are ya' looking for? Perhaps I've seen 'em."

"We're looking for a Forsaken Warlock, goes by the name Malic Felshroud." the Forsaken quickly answered. "He carries a scythe and is accompanied by a Void Lord."

"I think I know who you're looking for..." the Goblin replied, tapping his chin lightly as he spoke.

"Can you take us to him?" the Forsaken then asked, her eyes narrowing in murderous excitement.

"Afraid I can't do that ma'am." the Goblin replied, shaking his head in denial, smirking slightly when the Forsaken's eyes widened.

"What? Why not?! It is in your jurisdiction!" the Forsaken demanded, slamming her fist on the counter, earning a few suspicious stares from those nearby.

"You're right, it is." the Goblin confirmed, crossing his arms smugly. "But you two look like you're here to cause trouble, and I don't do bits and pieces!"

"Why you insufferable little-"

"Why don't you let me handle this?" the Orc quickly interrupted, grasping the Forsaken's shoulder as he pulled her back slightly. "Perhaps I can be a little more...persuasive..."

"If you insist..." the Forsaken hissed, roughly shrugging the Orc's hand off her shoulder as she let the Orc move closer to the counter.

"And you're content with not telling us where Malic Felshroud is?" the Orc asked, leaning forward on the counter slightly.

"Yer' damn right I am!" the Goblin replied, nodding his head sharply as he spoke.

"I see..." the Orc murmured, nodding his own head slightly.

Then he quickly grasped the back of the Goblins head and slammed it down on the counter, causing a loud crack to emanate around the tavern followed quickly by a scream of pain, silencing the Inn. When the Orc lifted the Goblin's head up, his nose was crushed and a small splatter of blood rested on the counter. The Orc then threw the Goblin forward, causing him to crumple against the wall of the tavern as the Orc leapt over the counter and proceeded to pummel the Goblin. This action did not go unnoticed by the other occupants as another Orc and a Human rushed up, only for the Forsaken to intercept them. The Orc charged forward first, raising an axe over his head to split the Forsaken in two. The Forsaken caught the Orc by the wrist, kneeing him in the gut before kicking him into the Human, sending both tumbling to the ground. As the Orc attempted to rise, he suddenly found a long black blade resting against his throat, gently pushing him to the ground. None dared move after that, not willing to risk the lives of the downed Orc and Human, alongside their own. The Orc then picked the Goblin up by the scruff of his neck and flung him onto the counter, his face barely recognisable as a dagger rested upon his throat.

"How about now?" the Orc seethed, pushing the blade further against the Goblin's throat.

"He's...he's in second room on the right...first floor..." the Goblin managed to say, coughing up a handful of blood.

"Now see, that wasn't so hard was it?" the Orc replied, releasing his grip on the Goblin as he sheathed the dagger in his hands. "Come on, he'll have heard all that..."

The Forsaken nodded as she quickly sheathed her blade, turning on her heels and joining her Orcish companion up the stairs as the once pleasant atmosphere returned to the Tavern. As the two ascended the stairs, they stopped at the second door on the right, standing either side of the frame.

"Are you ready?" the Forsaken whispered, quickly drawing a crossbow from her back and loading a bolt into it. The Orc nodded in response, drawing his own crossbow, the bolt already loaded. "On the count of three. One...two...three!"

The Orc then kicked the door open as the two rushed in, firing their crossbows which hit a figure snuggled into the lone bed in the room with a soft thud. The two then lowered their crossbows, the Forsaken gesturing to the Orc to remove the coverings so they could identify the target. His crossbow still trained on the figure, which he had now reloaded, he swiftly moved towards the figure and pulled the bed sheets back, only for a cloud of feathers to fly up in his face. The Orc swung wildly in air, only for rage to overcome him as the feathers settled, resting on a number of pillows that had been shaped into the form of a Humanoid.

"Damn it! The bastard knew we were coming!" the Orc growled, flinging the bed sheet in his hand furiously on the floor.

"His horse was still in the stable!" the Forsaken replied, her own tone one of anger. "If we hurry we should-"

The doors suddenly closed shut with a loud bang, causing both occupants to turn sharply towards the door as the sound of a lock clicking was heard. The two quickly dropped their weapons as they lunged for the door, the handle as stiff as a corpse.

"Why won't the damn door move?!" the Orc growled, slamming his frame against the door in a wild attempt to open it.

" _Perhaps it has something to do with me!"_

The two turned at the sound of the voice, only to go stiff as a large Void Lord came into view, the Demon cackling loudly as it began to grow larger. The Demon then cracked its knuckles as it it leaned closer to the two, who's backs were now up against the wall.

" _Shall we play a game?"_

 **00000000**

The tavern once again grew silent as screams of both pain and horror echoed around the tavern, followed by the sound of a Demon tearing them apart...slowly by the sounds of it. The battered Goblin winced slightly as the screams continued, turning quickly to one of the shadowed corners of the tavern.

"I trust I did good boss?" the Goblin asked, a forced smile gracing his swollen face.

Malic quickly exited the shadows, striding forward towards the Goblin before patting him gently on the head. "I believe so. You held up your end of the bargain, so now I shall hold up mine."

Malic then removed a small coin pouch from his belt, dropping it on the counter with a light thud, the sound of coins clinking faintly also heard.

"For your troubles..." Malic stated, turning to leave when an extremely painful sounding scream suddenly echoed around them, causing the Warlock to wince slightly as the sound of bone shattering was heard. Malic then removed another small coin pouch from his belt, placing it next to the one already present. "In case he breaks anything of value..."

Malic then strode quickly through the tavern, ascending the stairs as the band returned to playing the tavern music as the atmosphere returned. Malic paused outside the room that Khamû was having his way with the two individuals. The Warlock chuckled as he then entered the room on his left, quickly opening it and leaning his scythe against the wall, sighing loudly as he stretched his arms, the sounds of bones popping following shortly afterwards. Malic then pulled his hood back, letting what was left of his long black hair fall down his back as he removed the bone mask covering what was left of his face. Malic flexed his jaw as he observed his near skeletal face in a nearby mirror, grunting slightly in disappointment at his reflection.

"I'm going to need a new jaw..." Malic muttered, prodding the rapidly decaying appendage gently.

As he continued to observe his reflection, he heard the sound of wood creaking in the corner. Turning sharply with narrowed eyes, Malic eyed his surroundings as he growled lowly. Suddenly, a figure leapt from the shadows, a sword drawn and raised above their head. Malic quickly side stepped the figure, the sword becoming stuck in the table Malic had been stood at. As the Assassin attempted to tug the weapon free, Malic quickly kneed him in the stomach, only to grunt in slight pain when his knee hit metal plating.

The figure then backhanded Malic, causing the Warlock to stumble backwards, where he quickly pulled himself up off the floor. Turning rapidly, he saw that the Assassin had pulled the blade free, and was now pacing around like a caged animal, his eyes never leaving Malic.

"I was wondering where the third one was..." Malic muttered, twisting his neck slightly as the bones popped back into place.

"You really thought that I would be as foolish as my compatriot's?" the Assassin chuckled, who Malic could now tell was a Human.

"Considering you left your steed's in plain sight right next to mine, absolutely." Malic replied, his hands flexing as dark energies travelled up his arm.

"Well then I'm sorry to disappoint." the Human stated, twirling the sword in his hand as he watched Malic.

"Why are you hunting me?" Malic then asked, his gaze shifting slightly as he eyed his scythe still leaning against the wall.

"Oh you'd like to know that, wouldn't you?" the Assassin sneered, chuckling slightly when Malic growled in response. "My lips are sealed. Besides, you'll be dead shortly so I'd only just be wasting my breath."

"No matter," Malic seethed as the dark energies continued to build up in his hands. "I'll just tear the secrets from your cold corpse!"

Malic then sent a blast of shadow energy at the Assassin, who leaned back as the bolt sailed past his head, staining the wooded door with shadow magic. The Assassin then lunged forward, his blade held close to his chest as he swung out at the Warlock, who staggered backwards as he dodged the blow. Malic then sent a smaller bolt of energy at the Assassin, hitting his left arm, causing him to seethe in pain as he clutched the limb. Malic used this as an opportunity to strike, punching the Assassin in the softer parts of his armour.

The Assassin finally retaliated, kicking Malic in the gut and swinging wildly with the blade in an attempt to hit him. Malic ducked and weaved through the blows, making sure to keep his distance from the blade. When the Assassin raised the blade over his head to deliver an overhead strike, Malic charged forward, tackling the Assassin to the ground, causing him to drop the weapon. As the Assassin attempted to rise, Malic punched the him in the face, causing him to grunt loudly in pain. Then he leaned over and grasped the Assassin's injured arm, digging his fingers into the seared flesh and causing him to scream in pain.

"Who hired you?!" Malic shouted, digging his claw like fingers deeper into the Assassin's arm, who thrashed wildly on the floor.

"I don't...break so...easily!" the Assassin seethed before he continued to scream in pain.

"We'll see..." Malic murmured, dark energies coursing through his fingers and entering the wound, renewing the Assassin's screams of pain. "Now tell me!"

"You'll...never know..." the Assassin muttered, before he swung his free hand forward, hitting Malic square in the jaw and causing him to tumble to the ground.

The Assassin was quick on his feet, growling loudly as he nursed the arm, quickly unsheathing a dagger strapped to his back. Slowly, Malic rose from the floor, turning around to face the Assassin, one of the hinges of his jaw snapped in half. Malic growled loudly as he sharply pulled the jaw free, his eyes narrowed as he crushed the now useless appendage in his hands.

The Assassin charged forward, the dagger raised above his head. Malic caught the Assassin's wrist, kicking him in the groin. The Assassin groaned in pain as he keeled over, staggering back as he nursed his groin. Malic then reached for his scythe, grasping hold of it with both hands and swinging it down on the Assassin. The Assassin fell forward with a loud thud, the blade planting him to the ground. Malic waited for any sign of movement from the Assassin, yet none came. Deciding to play it safe, Malic plucked the dagger from his limp hand and planted it in the back of his skull.

The door suddenly swung open, causing Malic to turn sharply in surprise, only to relax when he saw Khamû carrying the limp remains of the other two Assassin's.

" _Master! Are you all right?"_ Khamû asked, dropping the bodies with a loud thud.

Malic held out his hand as he nodded in response. Quickly turning, he moved towards a drawer next to the bed, plucking out a small metal case he had saved for such an occasion. He quickly opened the box, revealing a metal jaw he carried with him such an emergency occur. After fumbling about with the appendage, he slotted the new jaw in, flexing his jaw as he tested it out.

"I'll live, Khamû...though I liked that jaw." Malic finally replied, recoiling slightly as he felt his tongue touch the cold metal.

" _So I see..."_ Khamû muttered, quickly grabbing the two cadavers he had carried with him by what remained of their ankles before shutting the door.

"I trust you had fun?" Malic asked, turning to face Khamû as he tugged the scythe free from the dead Assassin.

" _Indeed, though I found something rather intriguing on both their persons..."_ Khamû responded, holding his arm out and unfurling his clawed hand, two small black broaches resting in it. _"They both carried this broach, and I would assume that this individual also carried one."_

Malic knelt down next to the dead Assassin, pushing the body to the side as he observed the front of the Assassin's body. True to Khamû's assumption, a broach was attached to his chest plate. Tearing it from the leather strap it was attached to, Malic observed the broach for any distinguishable signs. The broach was pure black, a pair of scythes crossed over one another whilst dead in the centre was a fanged skull.

"Do you recognise this symbol?" Malic asked, showing the broach to Khamû.

" _I was hoping you would..."_ Khamû replied, shaking his head solemnly in the process.

Malic growled in disappointment at the statement, though he figured as much. Turning to study the broach yet again, Malic let out a sigh before turning to face Khamû.

"Then I think we have a problem..."

 **00000000**

 **That's it for this chapter. Just a heads up, I now have a DeviantArt account called 'RagingArchon' where I post drawings related to mine and other Fan-Fictions. Liked it? Leave a review and constructive criticism is welcomed. Any questions? Either PM me or leave in your reviews and I'll answer them.**

 **Raging Archon out.**


	5. Long Time, No See

**Hello everyone, and welcome back to the next chapter of Shadow of The Harvest. Firstly, a special thank you to 'OutlastTheDark' who gave me permission to use his OC in this chapter, go check out his work. Usually I would do review responses but there isn't much to say really. Now, on with the show!**

 **"I think people feel starved of nice, glamorous entertainment. They want to see costumes and gaiety and a singer; old-fashioned entertainment-it won't die easily." Ronnie Corbett, 1930-2016. You shall be missed.**

 **00000000**

 **Chapter 5- Long Time, No See**

 **One Week later…**

Malic hastened the speed of his Warhorse, Boneshadow, as he galloped quickly through the remnants of Lordaeron now known as the Western Plaguelands. Malic grumbled quietly in disgust as he observed the now fresh foliage growing in the area. He liked the Plaguelands just the way they were, at least the Scourge had the decency to place some Plague Cauldron's in the fields rather then actually growing things.

" _This place...it's so bright and full of life..."_ Khamû muttered as he swiftly followed his Master down the road, gazing around at the land around him in disgust. _"It sickens me to my very core!"_

"Agreed, but my informant wanted to meet here." Malic responded, his eyes never leaving the road. "Why though I cannot understand..."

" _I mean not to question your decisions Master,"_ Khamû stated, causing the Warlock to slow the pace of his steed as he turned to face the Demon. _"And I know you consider this one a friend-"_

"'Friend' is a strong word Khamû," Malic interrupted, turning to face the road again as he slowly brought Boneshadow into a canter. "I would use the term 'acquaintance'."

" _Which brings me to my question,"_ Khamû continued, speaking as if nothing had happened. _"Why are we going to meet him?"_

"Because he may be insufferable but he knows certain things, and I'll bet he knows something about this..." Malic replied, quickly bringing out the broach Malic had procured from one of the Assassin's sent to kill him. "Besides, he owes me one..."

" _If you insist."_ Khamû sighed, catching up to the Warlock as the Warhorse began to increase in speed. _"But don't say I didn't warn you..."_

"You're only saying that because you don't like him." Malic chuckled, Boneshadow once again galloping down the road.

" _Correction, I despise him."_ Khamû corrected, earning yet another chuckle from the Warlock.

The journey proved to be less then eventful, which Malic was glad for. The last week had been a busy one to say the least. He had been assaulted by numerous other Assassin's, all of them dressed in the same armour and carrying the same broaches as the ones from Booty Bay. He had even been attacked in Tirisfal only moments ago, the only place he hadn't been in harms way was the Undercity. But he knew it would only be a matter of time before the Assassin's found a way to reach him, which was why he was going to find them first and make them pay in blood.

He soon found himself outside the gates of Hearthglen, once a bastion of the Scarlet Crusade and now main Headquarters of the Argent Crusade in the Western Plaguelands. He brought Boneshadow to a halt as the gargantuan wooden gates slowly opened, where a number of Argent Crusaders stood guard. Malic slowly guided Boneshadow through the silver armoured Paladins, who all watched the Demon besides him warily.

Malic observed the area around him, taking note of the large number of Soldiers training nearby. Why they were training, he did not know. The Scourge presence in Lordaeron was nearly gone, though it never hurt to be prepared, especially considering the recent actions of a certain Orc Warchief. Malic quickly approached the Stables stationed in the centre of the residence, taking note of the large number of Argent Chargers already inside. However, the one that caught his attention the most was a Crimson Armoured Deathcharger that had been stationed near the entrance of the Stable.

"Here already..." Malic murmured, dismounting Boneshadow as he led the Warhorse next to the Deathcharger, who didn't so much as flinch at the sudden appearance of the Forsaken. "That's surprisingly punctual of him..."

" _Perhaps he has grown more 'mature' since our last meeting..."_ Khamû suggested, though as soon as the Demon uttered those words he knew it was foolish to think such a thing was possible.

"I doubt it..." Malic muttered, confirming the Demons fears. "Let's get this over with shall we?"

Malic and Khamû quickly strode from the Stables to the nearby Inn stationed on the opposite side of the courtyard. They quickly entered the structure, Malic reeling slightly at the sudden change of lighting. Inside the Inn were a large number of Adventurers of all races revelling at the festivities the Inn had to offer. A number of the more shady patrons subtly turned their gaze towards the Warlock, narrowing their eyes as he slowly moved forward. Malic chose to ignore the stares he was receiving, looking in all directions for any sign of his informant.

"Malic, you old bone bag!" an echoing voice suddenly shouted behind him, causing Malic to freeze in place as he slowly turned around. "I've been waiting for you!"

Sat at a table near the back door of the Inn was a Blood Elf, his features hidden by a hood that hid all except his cold blue eyes. Matte Black Armour covered the rest of his body, save for the Ebon Blade Tabard covering his chest, whilst a long black cloak hung loosely from his back. The Blood Elf leaned back in his chair slightly as he used his foot to push the chair opposite him away, a sly smirk now visible on his face due to the candle light.

"It's good to see you again Wrath..." Malic murmured, using the Blood Elf's self proclaimed name. What his real name was he didn't know as it was a closely guarded secret, not that he cared anyhow.

"Long time no see, 'ey Malic?" the Blood Elf, now identified as Wrath, replied, gesturing to the chair opposite him which Malic sat down on seconds later. "So, how have you been?"

" _Do not waste time Elf!"_ Khamû spat, his eyes narrowed into slits as he continued to glare at the Blood Elf. _"You know full well why we are here!"_

"Khamû..." Wrath sighed, turning to face the Void Lord as he shook his head. "I see you're still a walking angst-fest as per usual."

Khamû blinked in response, clearly taken aback by the remark before quickly resuming his glare at the Blood Elf. _"Why you insufferable-"_

"Khamû..." Malic hissed, his voice dangerously. "Do I have to dismiss you or will you be quiet?"

" _I am sorry if I have offended you Master,"_ Khamû responded, bowing his head low for a second before glaring at Wrath yet again. _"But we are wasting our time here! I say we should leave and find someone else!"_

"Come on Khamû," Wrath chuckled, pretending to sound hurt at the statement, though his grin stated otherwise. "We were just starting to get along!"

" _Were it up to me, I would have crushed your pathetic little skull in my hands!"_ Khamû growled, his fist clenching and unclenching repeatedly. _"And not to kill you, but so your skull was the size of your brain!"_

"Khamû!" Malic shouted, pointing to the door with one of his bony fingers. "Stay outside with Boneshadow, now!"

Khamû blinked again, clearly taken aback once more. _"Very well, as you wish..."_ Khamû finally murmured, bowing lowly at Malic whilst he sent a glare directed at Wrath once again.

Malic took note that as soon as the Void Lord had left the Inn, a large number of the patrons that had been watching them had now stopped. He even caught sight of one or two of them slowly moving their hands away from heir weapons, no doubt ready to draw them should the Void Lord follow through with any of his threats.

"Well...that was fun!" Wrath chuckled, turning around to face Malic, only to frown when he saw the Warlock staring intently at him. "What? Something on my face?"

"You're just as much to blame for his outburst as he is..." Malic explained, his already foul mood increasing when Wrath rolled his eyes in response. "You know he doesn't like it when you do things like that."

"Meh, he'll get over it." Wrath mumbled, waving his hand dismissively.

"No, he won't." Malic replied, shaking his head as he spoke.

"Good point..." Wrath then muttered as he scratched his chin thoughtfully, before shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. "So, why'd you call for me? It certainly wasn't so you could grumble about your little man servant."

Malic quickly looked around, making sure there were no unfriendly eyes or ears paying attention to the two. Once he was convinced none were watching them, he leaned closer to Wrath, his voice but a whisper. "I appear to have some form of price on my head..."

"Come again?" Wrath asked, his head tilted questioningly to the side as his eyes were narrowed in confusion.

"I don't know who, but someone is after me. I've already had a number of attempts on my life already and it's only a matter of time until one of them succeeds!" Malic quietly hissed, his eyes watching the Blood Elf for any visible reaction. It was a full minute before Wrath spoke again.

"So let me get this straight...you're being hunted down by a group of Assassin's that want to see you dead and you thought it would be a good idea to meet up in a crowded Inn?" Wrath asked, Malic choosing to remain silent as the Blood Elf continued to stare at him. "It's official, I think that rot has finally hit your brain."

"If I recall, it was you who wanted to meet here!" Malic hissed, his voice showing clear signs of annoyance.

"Yeah well..." Wrath went silent as he attempted to complete his verbal jab, only to sigh as he gave up on the task. Damn this Warlock! "So what do I have to do with this?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, you are useful when it comes to identifying certain groups of people." Malic answered, sighing internally when he saw Wrath grin comically in response.

"Question, what makes you think a certain group is targeting you?" Wrath asked, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair.

"Because they've all dressed the same and each one has carried this." Malic replied, quickly placing the broach on the table, Wrath quickly scooping the broach up in his hands and observing it. "Do you recognise it?"

"Hmm..." Wrath mumbled as he toyed with the broach in his hands, holding it to the nearby candle in order to make out any small symbols. "Sorry, can't say I have...but I can tell it's coated in Arcane Magic."

"Arcane Magic?" Malic asked, tilting his head slightly as Wrath handed the broach back to him. "What does it do?"

"Nothing special, it just acts as a telepathic link for whoever holds it, no doubt to connect to a higher directive." Wrath replied, running his finger idly on the table. "From what I can tell, it only allows a connection if the one wielding it allows their thoughts to be heard."

"Interesting..." Malic whispered, holding the broach close to his face before placing it back into a poach on his belt. "But you cannot tell me what group the broach belonged too?"

"Sorry, no." Wrath replied, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "I don't do all this Warlock crap."

"I see..." Malic sighed. He knew Wrath would not lie to him, he knew better then to do that. "Regardless, thank you."

"Hey, no problem." Wrath chuckled, waving his hand dismissively again. "I owed you after you helped my friend with his Demonic Book dilemma."

"I don't need reminding of that event..." Malic shuddered, shivering as he recalled said event. Those damn books seemed to have it in for him. "Well, I should get going before Khamû decides to vent his anger on one of the poor horses outside."

"Wait, I think I might have something." Wrath quickly stated, causing Malic to suddenly stop in his tracks as he turned his attention to Wrath again. "But it'll cost you..."

"Don't test my patience!" Malic seethed, his hands clenching his knees tightly.

"Relax, I'm not asking for money!" Wrath laughed, causing the Warlock to tilt his head questioningly. "I'll trade you for...a favour. I help you out now, you help me out in the future."

"That's it? No strings attached?" Malic asked, his eyes narrowed in judgement. He didn't know what sort of favour Wrath would want, but it certainly wouldn't be good.

"No strings whatsoever!" Wrath confirmed, the sly grin still present on his face.

"Very well then, you have a deal..." Malic finally mumbled, part of him dreading what sort of favour the Elf would ask for in the future. "What do you have for me?"

Instantaneously, Wrath quickly pulled out a rolled up piece of parchment, a wax seal hiding the contents of the scroll. Malic quickly observed the scroll, looking for any distinguishable marks, yet the only thing of interest was the seal, which was imprinted with a symbol clearly Blood Elven in nature.

"My friend got invited to a party exclusive to Warlocks, he declined and I was going to sell it on the Auction House for him but seeing as you need information..."

"You think I'll find some here?" Malic asked, looking up from the seal to stare at the Blood Elf who nodded in return. "What makes you so sure?"

"Look, all I know is that the person hosting the event knows a lot more then I do." Wrath responded, gazing silently at the table before him. "Maybe she'll know something about these guys..."

"Wait...'she'?" Malic asked, going silent as he racked his mind for who Wrath might be referring to. Then it hit him. "Please don't tell me it's who I think it is..."

"I'm afraid so..." Wrath muttered, a small frown present on his face. "Sorry..."

Malic growled as he banged his head on the table, Wrath wincing slightly at the sound of a large crack following after wards. It was silent for a while until Malic finally sighed and lifted his head from the table.

"Well then, I guess I should prepare to travel to the Elven Kingdom..."

 **00000000**

 **And done! Hope you enjoyed, and once again thank you to OutlastTheDark for giving me permission to use Wrath in my fic! If you liked it, feel free to leave a review and constructive criticism is welcomed. Any questions? Either leave in your review or PM me and I'll answer them for you.**

 **Raging Archon out.**


	6. Sunshroud Manor

**Another day, another chapter. First up, review response time. OutlastTheDark; glad you liked it, and also glad that I got Wrath's character right. I'll let you decide how that favour turns out, and as for who they are talking about...you'll see. Now, on with the show!**

 **00000000**

 **Chapter 6- Sunshroud Manor**

Malic tightened his grip on the reins as he made his way quickly through Eversong Forest...or rather over it to be more specific. After the amount of trouble he had just getting to Hearthglen and back to the Undercity her had opted to leave Boneshadow behind and had instead decided to fly to the High Home of the Elves. Under normal circumstances he would have chosen to ride his Armoured Bloodwing, Artemis, but didn't want to risk the danger of being spotted overhead by any Assassins lying in wait on the road. A standard Undercity Bat was more then adequate, the beasts being a common sight over the forests of Eversong as couriers and adventurers travelled between the two kingdoms.

Malic gently kicked the beasts side, elighting a shriek of acknowledgement from the oversized rodent as it hastened its speed. Under normal circumstances, the Bat would be heading to either Fairbreeze Village, Falconwing Square or even the Gates of Silvermoon itself. But today was different. Today the rider had another destination in mind.

On the Western Coast of Eversong sat a small island, large enough to house a moderate village and be free from local pests...a haven of sorts. That was the original plan as well, until the land was bought off by a small group of individuals who then sold ownership of the land to the same person Malic had come to see. The new owner then built a somewhat hideous house on the land, which now led him to his current predicament.

Malic began to pull on the reins as the Bat descended onto the ground, landing with a soft thud before shaking itself and hissing loudly. Malic patted the beasts mane as he dismounted, turning away as the Bat then flew off in search of something to eat. The creature would not go far, it was trained to wait on his arrival and return to the Undercity when Malic was ready. He didn't expect it to take too long, at least that's what he had hoped anyway. Malic then proceeded to take a Soulshard out of his pouch before he silently chanted a summoning spell, crushing the shard to dust as Khamû suddenly appeared, his armour materialising around his bulky frame.

" _Gahhh! I detest that Realm!"_ Khamû muttered, shuddering slightly as he felt the rest of his form enter the physical world. _"Took us long enough, where are we?"_

"This my friend, is Sunshroud Isle." Malic replied, causing Khamû to turn and face the Warlock with a confused look. "Wrath said I could find someone here with information here."

" _And you're certain we can trust him?"_ Khamû asked, following his Master as he made his way to the large Manor on the far side of the landmass.

"I haven't had a reason not to before." Malic replied, quickly approaching a black iron gate. "But there's a first time for everything."

" _And if I may ask, just who are we going to be seeing?"_ Khamû then asked, his eyes narrowed in concern. He did not want to deal with another Wrath like character.

"You know how you _loved_ Wrath," Malic answered, a large hint of sarcasm present in his voice, something Khamû picked up immediately. "She makes him look tolerable."

Khamû growled in disgust as his form quivered in rage, causing the Warlock to let out a small chuckle as he approached the black iron gates, a Blood Elf in what appeared to be servants attire awaiting him.

"Greetings Sir, may I see your invitation please?" the Blood Elf asked, his gloved hand held.

Malic fumbled around in his pouch as he pulled out the scroll Wrath had handed him, gently placing it in the servants hand. The servant quickly took the scroll, unfurling it as his eyes scanned first down the length of the parchment before flicking back and forth between Malic and the scroll. Malic went tense at this, most likely the servant could sniff something was wrong. Never mind, if he had to fight his way through then so be it.

"Is something the matter?" Malic finally asked, his hand slowly reaching for the grip of his scythe still strapped to his back.

"No Sir, everything appears to be in order." the servant finally replied, rolling up the parchment and handing it back to Malic. "Enjoy the party, Lord Sunsorrow."

" _Lord Sunsorrow?"_ Khamû whispered once he was certain the servant was out of earshot.

"Wrath's friend, remember." Malic hastily replied, stuffing the invitation back into his pouch. "The invitation was for him, and thankfully he has never been to one of these parties before."

" _I had thought we would also avoid such a fate..."_ Malic replied, seething in disgust when he saw a pair of Honeybees zip past them. God how he hated Life.

"As did I..." Malic sighed, shaking his head in disappointment as he approached the entrance of a rather extravagant Manor.

The building was obviously Elven in nature, the many brickworks coloured a mix of Ruby Red and Royal Gold with a trace of Fel Green here and there. As Malic approached the doors to the manor, another Blood Elf stood waiting, her clothing similar in style to the one that had been waiting on him at the gate. The servant silently turned around and pulled the doors open, gesturing for Malic to follow her. Malic complied, quickly approaching the door and following the servant through the long corridor. At the end was the entrance to a large room filled to the brim with Blood Elves, all of them dressed in extravagant clothing.

" _I thought your friend Wrath had said that the guests were all Warlocks?"_ Khamû mumbled as he observed these so called practitioners of the Fel.

"So did I..." Malic seethed, walking briskly through the room as a number of 'Warlocks' turned their gaze away from one another to stare at the Undead, most of them with disgust.

Malic ignored the stares he received as he made his way through to the other side of the room where a small Bar was stationed, a servant tending the Bar whilst also serving thirsty customers.

"Good Evening Sir, what can I get you?" the servant asked as he spotted Malic approaching, looking up from his current task as he waited on the Undead.

"Nothing for now..." Malic replied, waving away the servant as he leaned forward on the Bar.

Malic instead opted to examine his surroundings, hoping to spot the person he was actually here to see. He didn't like being out in the open like this, too many places for the Assassins to get the jump on him.

"Well well well, I don't believe it." a soft female voice suddenly boomed across the room, causing Malic to turn and face its direction. "Lord Malic Felshroud in the flesh! It's an honour to meet you again."

Malic growled in annoyance as he finally spotted the source of the voice. Briskly walking towards him was a Blood Elf female clad in a tight black dress that seemed to make her breasts more appealing. Sleeved black gloves graced her arms whilst a black mask stylised after a hawk covered the upper half of her face, whilst her light blonde hair was tied in a bun. Behind her was a Fel Guard wielding a large Axe, a large spiked chain collar wrapped tightly around its neck. Malic's eyes followed the length of the chain and saw the end of it gripped tightly in the females hand. To see such a powerful Demon subjugated in such a way was amusing to say the least. To see such a powerful Demon subjugated by HER was a different story all together.

"Vanessa Sunshroud..." Malic replied, bowing lightly as the Blood Elf stopped a few feet in front of him. "Charmed."

"So I see," Vanessa chuckled, eyeing Malic up as she playfully bit her lip. "Well then, are you here for business or pleasure?"

"I think you know the answer..." Malic seethed, his hands clenching into tight fists. God did she infuriate him. Vanessa tutted in disappointment as she rolled her eyes before motioning for the Warlock to follow her.

"Very well, follow me."

Malic quickly followed Vanessa as she led him through the crowd, who were now discussing amongst themselves as to what their Hostess was doing with the Forsaken Lord. Malic followed Vanessa up the stairs to the upper levels of the Manor, which was restricted to the guests below, the only souls there being Vanessa, Malic and a few servants every now and then.

Eventually, they made it to Vanessa's room which the servants outside quickly opened the doors for them. The room appeared to be split into three segments as far as Malic could tell. One segment looked like a standard Bedroom, with a large bed and what looked like a segment for changing into clothes present. The second segment was laid out like a study, featuring a desk and a number of chairs as well as numerous books. The third and final segment looked more like something out of a dominatrix home, with large quantities of rope and...other items of interest littered all over the area. Malic was glad to say the least that Vanessa had decided to conduct their business in the second segment.

"So Malic, what brings you out of the Undercity to my humble parlour?" Vanessa finally asked as she turned to face Malic, her eyes narrowed inquisitively behind the hawk like mask.

"It's something dire I'm afraid." Malic calmly replied, watching as Vanessa took a seat.

"And you came to me for answers?" Vanessa asked, letting out an amused gasp as Malic slowly took a seat opposite her. "I knew you couldn't resist my charm forever."

"Believe me, I'd much rather not be here." Malic stated, causing Vanessa to roll her eyes in disappointment. "But our mutual friend said you might be able to help."

"You mean Wrath?" Vanessa muttered, letting out a disgusted noise as she turned away slightly. "Well that explains how you got the invitation."

"Yes, well can you help me?" Malic asked, staying silent as he awaited a response from Vanessa.

Vanessa sighed in disappointment as she turned around to face Malic again, her eyebrow raised slightly. "Very well, what is it you want help with?"

In response, Malic simply chucked the seal he had found on the Assassins that had started this fiasco in the first place. Vanessa quickly caught the broach and observed the symbol adorning it, turning it in the sunlight.

"Well, do you recognise it?" Malic asked after Vanessa had observed the broach for at least a full minute.

"I believe I do..." Vanessa mumbled, turning to face Malic again as she tossed the seal back to the Warlock. "Where did you get it?"

"Off of the body of someone who tried to kill me." Malic replied, storing the broach back in his pouch before turning to face Vanessa again. "Why? What do you know?"

"If my suspicions are correct, I believe that you may have earned the ire of a Cult known as the Shadow of the Harvest." Vanessa explained, examining her fingernails as she spoke. "That broach you carry allows the wielder to communicate telepathically with others of their order, as well as a symbol of their identification."

"The Shadow of the Harvest?" Malic asked, his own eyes narrowed in confusion. "They aren't related to the Black Harvest are they?"

"Only in name, but they idolise them." Vanessa replied, turning to face Malic once more. "Any attack made against them they see as an insult, which they respond to with extreme prejudice."

"Then why are they trying to kill me?!" Malic asked in exasperation, shaking his head in confusion. "I've had no dealings with the Black Harvest!...Except-"

"Except when you helped Wrath's friend defeat Kanrethad Ebonlocke." Vanessa interrupted, watching as the realisation hit Malic.

"Surely you can't be serious?! I may have helped him, but it was him who fought him and struck the finishing blow!"

"You helped him nonetheless." Vanessa continued, idly tracing a pattern on her leg with her finger. "No doubt their focus will turn to him once you're out of the picture."

"Shit!" Malic hissed, rubbing his forehead as he shook his head. Wrath had to be warned, of that there was no doubt. Neither of them were safe until this Cult had been dealt with. "How do you know all this?"

"I'm well informed." Vanessa simply shrugged, a playful grin on her face. "I'm afraid you have two options. A- just lie down and let the Shadow's get you, or B- attempt to find the Cult headquarters and dismantle it. Now as much as I enjoy your presence, option A is the most likely to happen."

"If you think for a second I'm going to give up without a fight, then you don't know me at all!" Malic hissed, looking up to stare at Vanessa with a glare.

"I'd hope you would say that." Vanessa chuckled. "But how do you attempt to find their headquarters? Every single Assassin you've come across has tried to kill you, and I doubt they'd tell you if you asked nicel-"

A shriek suddenly echoed throughout the Manor, causing both Vanessa and Malic to turn in its direction. The doors then suddenly burst open as a servant ran through, her clothing covered in blood.

"Assassins! Assassins are murdering every-"

The servant was cut off as she suddenly gasped in pain and fell forward, an arrow embedded in her back. The two other occupants backed away slightly before looking up, an Assassin from the Shadow of the Harvest notching a fresh arrow into his bow. Before he could even think about aiming, Malic sent a blast of shadowy energy at the Assassin, who began to writhe in pain as the bolt hit his chest before he fell backwards, his body dead before it even hit the floor. Malic then turned to face Vanessa, who seemed to be less then pleased about the interruption if the Fel energy dancing around her was any indication.

"Well, let's go ask them shall we?"

 **00000000**

 **Sorry it's short but hey, you win some you lose some. Liked it? Feel free to review and constructive criticism is welcomed. Any questions? Either leave in your review or PM me.**

 **Raging Archon out.**


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